


The Great Cannibal Bake-Off

by apoptoses



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 12:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8328088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apoptoses/pseuds/apoptoses
Summary: "This competition is absurd. Forty-five minutes is hardly enough time to even complete one's mise en place and begin to craft the batter."
Will nodded sympathetically and stroked Hannibal's knees. It was ridiculous. Hannibal the Cannibal, off on a judgmental rant about the horrors of reality baking competitions. If only Freddie Lounds knew, he thought to himself. The things she would post to tattle crime.





	

"Whatever do you think you're doing?" Hannibal asked.

Will pressed the back of his hand to Hannibal's forehead the way his dad used to do to him when he was running a fever, frowning. "Well, you're laying on the couch with the dog, watching the food network. It only stands to reason that you're sick," he said, and, looking Hannibal up and down, added, "Is that my sweater?"

"I didn't want Cicero's hair to get on my new shirt," Hannibal said as he craned his neck so that he could see around Will. The tiny golden retriever pup on his chest yawned.

Will rolled his eyes. Hooking his hand beneath Hannibal's knees, he forced him to lift his legs long enough for Will to take a seat on the sofa. He placed Hannibal's legs across his lap, much like a safety belt. "That doesn't explain what you're doing watching amateur bakers have a cake pop competition."

"I placed the roast in the oven and finished cleaning the kitchen with time to spare."

"Did you use the meat we got on Sunday?"

"Yes." Hannibal wrinkled his nose in a snarl that would have meant danger, had any of the bakers been physically in the room. "This competition is absurd. Forty-five minutes is hardly enough time to even complete one's mise en place and begin to craft the batter."

Will nodded sympathetically and stroked Hannibal's knees. It was ridiculous. Hannibal the Cannibal, off on a judgmental rant about the horrors of reality baking competitions. If only Freddie Lounds knew, he thought to himself. The things she would post to tattle crime.

"Atrocious," Hannibal muttered as the woman on screen presented her blindingly neon cake creation.

"Well, maybe if you weren't on the FBI's most wanted list you could go on and show them all how it's done," Will teased. 

"I don't believe I could. I would have to refuse the challenge on grounds that it isn't a true dessert," Hannibal said, voice full of indignation. "Cake should never be placed upon a stick, much less coated in anything called a candy melt."

"I'll be sure to let the neighbors know, just in case any were thinking of bringing around cake pops as a holiday gift." Will looked at Hannibal, unable to stop the swell of affection within his chest. Of all the futures he'd imagined for himself, this was the last one he would have expected. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

"Yes. But I never do tire of hearing it."

Will fumbled in the cushions for the remote, turning the tv off so he could kiss Hannibal in peace. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he made a note to drag Hannibal to the gourmet cake pop shop in town.


End file.
